


we all burn as one

by glowinghorizons



Category: The Man in the High Castle (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11336010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowinghorizons/pseuds/glowinghorizons
Summary: The rings seem to go on forever, and just when his heart rate starts to pick up, a voice answers on the other end of the line."Smith residence."Joe freezes, phone pressed to his ear, blood frozen in his veins."Hello?"He can't speak. He can't open his mouth because it's her. He would know that voice anywhere -- he hears it in his dreams, and in his wildest fantasies when he's running on too little sleep.





	we all burn as one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andromedagreyjoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedagreyjoy/gifts).



> This takes place sometime during season two but is largely canon divergent. A story wherein Joe Blake starts to suspect what his father is up to, and reaches out to John Smith for help. He doesn’t expect the voice that greets him on the other end of the line.

It takes him two days after he realizes his father wants to turn the entire Reich inside out before he calls John Smith.

He’s not sure why -- after all, he has no reason to trust the man, and the same goes the other way. The Obergruppenführer gave him orders, and Joe defied those orders at every turn. Not only that, but he practically worked with the Resistance.

He’s a traitor.

There’s no reason why John Smith should help him now.

When he gets back to the mansion, he picks up the phone. He hates himself for it, because he let John Smith manipulate him at every turn, but he has no other choice. He has no one left to turn to. 

The rings seem to go on forever, and just when his heart rate starts to pick up, a voice answers on the other end of the line.

"Smith residence." 

Joe freezes, phone pressed to his ear, blood frozen in his veins. 

"Hello?" 

He can't speak. He can't open his mouth because it's _her_. He would know that voice anywhere -- he hears it in his dreams, and in his wildest fantasies when he's running on too little sleep. 

"Juliana." He croaks, and he knows he's not imagining the hitch of breath he hears on the other end of the line. 

"I’m-- I’m sorry, this is Julia." She says. her voice the same breathy yet husky tone he hears right before he falls asleep telling him that his life is worth something. “Can I help you?”

Her name may be different, but it’s _her._ His mind is going a million miles per hour. She's at the Smiths. Why is she at the Smiths? Why did John tell him that Juliana was dead?

_She's alive._

_This line is probably tapped._

_She's alive._

_If he finds out she's talking to me, he'll kill her._

_She's alive._

He somehow finds his voice. “Julian-- Julia.” He corrects himself. “It’s Joe Blake.” He wills his voice not to shake.

"Joe--" she says, and her voice cracks. He wants to reach out for her, somehow, through the phone lines, to touch her and verify for himself that she’s real. "It's been so long you almost called me by the wrong name," she says, covering.

"You--" he starts, before realizing he has no idea what to say, or how to say it without causing a red flag for whoever might be listening. "How-- how are you?"

"I'm good." She tells him, sounding choked up. "I'm-- Helen is having a party."

"Helen--" He says incredulously, because even he has never been allowed to call Mrs. Smith by her first name. He stops, taking a deep breath. "How is Helen?" He hopes she hears his unasked questions.

"She's fine. We went shopping, and I helped her make some food for the party."

He hears what she doesn’t say - _she doesn't know who I am. We're almost friends._

He hears it even though she hasn't said it. "That's-- that's good. I've been thinking about coming to visit. Will you tell Helen I wanted to drop in when I come back?"

"I'll tell her." The shake in Juliana's voice is unmistakable.

“I should arrive on Thursday,” he says, buying himself some time. It’s Monday now. If he leaves tonight, he can be in the city by early tomorrow morning. Enough time to get to Juliana and figure out what the hell is going on before he has to make any kind of showing at the Smiths.

He’s almost certain that Juliana isn’t going to tell them anything, but if someone is intercepting their calls, it’s likely John will find out about it anyway. Plus, he still has to figure out what to do about the bombs his father wants to drop all over the continent. 

There’s a lot to sift through, and he’s not sure he has the energy.

“Thursday.” She repeats.

 _Hear what I’m telling you_ , he thinks. _Please_.

“I’ll tell her.” She says, and hangs up before he can say another word that might get them both killed.

.

.

He barely packs a bag. He can’t-- he can’t think about anything except getting to Juliana. There’s a reason that the Obergruppenführer told Joe that Juliana was dead. He wanted him to feel hopeless, helpless.

It worked.

He wonders, still, how she got to be practically living with the Smiths, using an alias. John Smith is keeping her alive as leverage, surely.

Still, it doesn’t deter him. Not when he knows she’s alive. He thought she was dead. He thought _he_ was the reason she was dead, and he-- he can’t think. All he knows is that he has to get to her before someone figures out the truth about her and tries to use it against her.

When he gets to New York, it’s early Tuesday, and his hands are shaking as he steps off the platform. His eyes are darting everywhere, assessing threats, and looking for her. It makes no sense that she would be here, but-- somehow he thinks she is.

He starts to head to a nearby motel, hoping that he can get his bearings long enough to figure out what to do next. As he walks, a hand grabs his wrist and tugs, _hard_. 

A yell almost escapes his mouth until he catches sight of dark hair and grey-blue eyes, and he turns around so fast he almost trips over his own feet. 

“Juliana?” Her name is all at once a desperate sound, a plea, a sigh of relief.

Her face crumples as she looks at him, and the next thing he knows, she’s in his arms. She’s shaking, and he notices for a minute how thin she feels. “Joe--” She says, a near-sob, and he tightens his arms around her, letting out a shuddering breath. 

“I thought you were dead.” He says, his voice cracking, and she pulls back enough so he can see her face, but stays in the circle of his arms. “He told me you were dead.”

“He-- who?” 

“John Smith, Juliana, the man who could _kill us_ if he knew--”

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I’m-- this is a lot to take in.” 

“Where do they think you are?”

She shrugs. “Shopping. I took a few different cabs in case I was being followed.” 

“They’re watching your apartment, and listening to your phone, though?” 

“I-- I think so.” 

He wipes a hand over his face, trying to figure out what to do. “I can’t come back with you. I don’t-- I don’t want them to know I’m here, yet.”

“You were in Berlin,” she says, but it’s not accusatory. 

“I-- My father is-- he’s important.” He wants to tell her that he’s starting to change his mind about everything he knows, but he doesn’t know how to put it into words. He’s still struggling to understand it himself. “I was living with him.” 

Juliana doesn’t say anything, but her eyes are piercing as she looks at him. He feels ashamed, though he knows she’s made tough decisions of her own over the last few weeks. 

“I looked for you.” She says, and it’s the last thing he thought he would hear her say.

“What?” He takes a step closer to her involuntarily, drawn to be closer to her, as if he can keep her safe from sheer proximity alone. 

“When I was brought here, I looked for you. I came to your apartment, Joe.” She tells him, and it’s like the breath has been knocked out of him. 

She came for him, came back to him, and he was gone. He was probably halfway to Berlin by the time she cleared inspection in New York, and he hates himself for not trying harder, and not seeing through all the lies that he was told in order to keep them apart.

“You can’t--” He starts, then stops, his eyes falling shut. “You shouldn’t have gone there. Someone could have seen you--”

“I had nowhere else to go!” She sounds upset now, and a little angry, too. “I have no one I can trust. Frank is probably dead because of me, and--”

He takes her hand solidly in his. He can’t help it - he has to touch her somehow to verify for himself that she’s real and that he’s not hallucinating this entire thing. “Look, we’ll figure it out. Don’t panic. I have to-- there’s something I have to do, anyway. Just… just play your part.”

“And you?” She asks, her voice still shaky. “What do you think he’s going to do to you when you show up? He knows that you and I know each other.” 

Joe admits to himself that he’s a little terrified about what John Smith might to do her, or him, or both of them, if he shows up at the house. If he comes unannounced, he could act like he knew nothing about Juliana being alive.

If he plays it well enough, they might be able to buy more time. It could backfire, though, and he doesn’t know what he would do if he had to watch Juliana die in front of him.

“Tomorrow.” She says, bringing him from his thoughts, her hands still firmly ensconced in his. “There’s a garden party. There’s going to be a lot of people there.”

He nods, thinking it over. It might be safer. It could go worse for him, though. He just-- he can’t take the chance that his father is going to somehow seize control of the Reich and push another war on. They won’t survive it again.

“Okay.” He says, his voice shaky to match hers. “Okay.”

.

.

That night, he barely sleeps, unable to think about anything but the way she looked at him, and how he can still barely believe she’s alive.

When he gets dressed the next morning, his hands are trembling. 

He arrives at the Smiths as the party is in full swing, and he takes extra care to act natural and pretend that he’s been invited. He says hello to some older ladies that he knows from spending time with the Smiths, and when Helen sees him, she doesn’t even blink.

She invites him in, and he tries not to hesitate.

He still hasn’t seen Juliana. He’s terrified he’s going to call her by her given name instead of her alias and ruin the whole thing.

John spots him from across the room, and everything seems to slow down. He’s angry - that much is clear, but he keeps his cool and greets him like nothing is wrong. The grip of his hand when they shake says it all, though, and Joe feels a block of ice land in his stomach when John whispers, “How did you find out?”

Schooling himself, he looks confused. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

John smiles, but it’s venomous. “How did you _find out_.” It’s not a question anymore.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?” Joe changes tactics. Whispering, “I have news from Berlin.” He hesitates. “I wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t important.” 

“You don’t work for me anymore.” John says, and Joe struggles to keep his cool.

“If I don’t tell you what I know, no one will be working for _you_ anymore.”

“In the study.” John says, and Joe follows him, hoping and praying that the revolver John keeps in the drawer stays where it is. Once they get inside, Joe shuts the door behind them. “You must be feeling brave today, Mr. Blake.” John says, a ghost of a smile curling his lips. “Are you really going to look me in the eye and tell me your long lost love hasn’t influenced you to be here at all?”

“I didn’t know she was alive.” Joe croaks, deciding honesty is the only way to go. “You told me she was dead, sir. I believed you.”

“What are you doing here?” 

Right to the chase. So characteristic of the Obergruppenführer.

“I think my father is trying to overthrow the Reich.”

A pin could have dropped three rooms away, and he would have heard it. The silence in the room seems amplified, somehow.

“That’s a very serious accusation, Joe. Maybe you’ve forgotten you’re talking about the Acting Chancellor of the Reich.” 

“He’s been-- the way he’s been talking… it’s suspicious. He keeps talking about bombs. I’ve seen maps.”

“Your father let you in on these meetings?”

“He wants me to learn from him, sir.” 

John eyes him for a long time, before sitting down. “Who else has been in these meetings?”

Joe sits in the chair in front of him, and starts to talk.

.

.

They’re in the study for over an hour. Joe meticulously pours over every detail he can remember, including the secrecy of the Fuhrer’s illness - obviously everyone wanted to keep it quiet, but no one moreso than Joe’s own father.

Obergruppenführer Smith looks pale, and he’s frowning at the notes he’s been taking. “You understand I have no obligation to protect you.” He looks up at Joe. “After everything you’ve done, I should turn you in for these accusations.”

“Sir, due respect, but if you were going to do that, you would have gotten on the phone as soon as I started talking.”

“I need to make a call. You are to go back out to the party. Don’t speak to anyone of any rank about why you’re here. If you try to get Juliana Crain out of here, I’ll have you both shot.”

Rage bubbles up inside Joe, but he holds it back. He’s _so close_ to saving himself, saving Juliana… hell, he might have just saved the world. He can’t do anything to risk that now. 

“Yes, sir.” He says, and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. 

“Joe!” A voice calls, and when he turns, Helen is there, with Juliana, and Joe thinks he might be sick. “Have you met Julia?” 

_Christ_. “No, I don’t think so.” 

“Julia Mills.” She says, her voice so quiet and meek compared to the person he knows. He wants to hit someone. They’ve almost broken her - he can see it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” He replies, taking her hand. He squeezes it reassuringly, and tries to convey to her through a look that things are going better than he expected. She doesn’t know the real reason he’s here, so for all he knows, she still thinks he’s a traitor. She might not believe it was him on the tape she’s seen, but seeing his face there was enough to make her hate him, just a little. He can see it in her eyes. 

“You two should talk! Julia’s new in town, and I need to go check on the food.” Helen says, a red-painted smile on her lips before she leaves them alone.

“Joe--”

“Not here.” He whispers, fierce. “I-- meet me in the park near the harbor, tonight. Midnight. Don’t take a cab. Walk.” 

“Joe, please-”

“He will _kill_ you, Juliana.” Joe says, his voice hard, eyes blazing. “We can’t talk here. Not about this.”

He stays at the party until John comes out of the study and tells him to go home. Joe remembers belatedly that he has nowhere to go - he can’t go back to the apartment he shared with Rita. 

He goes back to the hotel he had been heading to when he arrived in New York before he saw Juliana, and gets a room indefinitely. He scarfs down a meal before he can’t stand it anymore and goes to the harbor to wait for Juliana.

He finds a dark alcove and waits there until he sees her, walking briskly, her coat tucked close around her. He steps out of the shadow until she sees him, and checks around to make sure she’s not being watched. 

“Did anyone see you leave?” He asks, and she shakes her head. 

“What’s going on? Why are we--”

“My father-- my father is the Acting Chancellor.” Joe says, and he watches her swallow hard. “You weren’t totally wrong about me, Juliana.” His voice goes rough with emotion. 

She narrows her eyes. “What’s happening? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Did you miss the part where I said my father is the Chancellor?” He asks incredulously.

“You’re not your father.” Her voice is so forgiving, and so much more than he deserves.

He promises himself right then and there that if it’s the last thing he does, he’s going to make sure she lives through this; that they both live through this. He’s done letting the Reich manipulate him, and he’s done letting the Resistance manipulate he and Juliana both. 

If she wants to continue whatever it is she’s doing, that will be her choice, but if he can’t stop his father, he’s going to protect her in whatever way he can, even if he has to drag her into a bomb shelter kicking and screaming.

“You don’t know that.” He protests, shaking his head. “The things I’ve done… you have no idea…”

“We’ve all done things!” She says, her hand landing on his arm and gripping him tight. “I-- I am the last person you need to convince, okay?” 

He looks at her, really _looks_ at her, and when he sees his own fears and hopes reflected in her eyes-- he feels like he doesn’t really have a choice about what he does next. 

He moves before he can talk himself out of it, pushing her against the brick wall behind her with a dull thud. His hands frame her face, and he looks at her eyes one more time before he leans in, kissing her with all the pent up desperation and emotion he’s felt for her since they met. It feels like years ago.

She freezes, and he starts to kick himself for ruining maybe the only good thing he has left, but then she moves, and it’s bliss. 

Her left hand grabs the front of his shirt to pull him closer, and her right hand goes around his waist, more to help her keep her own balance than anything else. When his tongue finds the seam of her lips, urging her to open for him, she makes this noise, and he wants to hear it for the rest of his life.

There’s a brief moment where he considers that this is maybe the stupidest thing he’s done in his life, but then she arches into him, and he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if they get caught like this, he doesn’t care if the Fuhrer himself comes around the corner, he’s not letting go of her. Not now.

“I thought you were dead.” He gasps against her lips when they pull apart for air. “I couldn’t-- if you die, Juliana, I can’t--”

“Don’t, don’t.” She shushes him, a few tears leaking from her eyes. “Do you know why I came to find you when I got here, Joe?” 

He shakes his head, unable to answer her even if he thought he could. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand why she hasn’t given up on him yet like the rest of the world has.

“I came to you because I _need_ you, and not just because I think you can help me finish what I started. You--” She stops, wiping a tear. “I care about you, more than I should, and definitely more than I know how to--” 

He cuts her off by kissing her again, unable to help himself because-- _god_ , how many times has he wished he would see her looking at him like this? Too many times to count, and more times than he’s willing to admit out loud.

“You make me… insane, Juliana. This is insane. I-- if you die because of me--” 

“I won’t.”

“My father wants to start another war. He has plans to bomb the entire west coast. If John Smith doesn’t get us both killed, that will. I have to get you out of here.” 

She pulls away slightly, and he shakes his head. “Please don’t ask me how I know. I can’t tell you that. The less you know, the better off you’ll be.” 

“That’s what you told Smith today. You told him what you overheard in Berlin?”

Joe nods, unable to speak. 

“Shit.” She curses, and he can’t help it, he chuckles a little, even if it is watery sounding. “What are they going to do?”

He shrugs. “I don’t have a fucking clue.”

.

.

Three days later, it happens.

Hitler is dead, and Joe’s father is arrested. 

Obergruppenführer John Smith is hailed as the savior of the Reich. 

Joe’s more than happy for him to take credit; he doesn’t want any part of it. He’s convinced that John won’t turn him in, because that would mean admitting he didn’t figure it out himself, and he’s sure the Smiths couldn’t handle that kind of public humiliation.

He’s feeling bold, so he spends the day holed up in Juliana’s apartment, tracing mindless shapes on her arm with his fingers, the touch featherlight as they listen to the radio broadcasts. 

“What do you think he’s going to do now?” 

Joe opens his mouth to reply, but the phone rings, startling them both. Juliana shuts her eyes briefly before composing herself enough to answer.

“Helen? Hold on-- slow down, I can’t understand-- _when?_ ” Her tone is urgent, and panicked, and Joe sits up in the bed, ramrod straight. “I’ll be right there.” She turns around, her face ashen. “Thomas turned himself in. He’s sick. They just picked him up.”

Joe shakes his head, not understanding. “Why did she call you?”

“I’m supposed to be her friend Julia, remember?” 

“What aren’t you telling me?” Joe asks, dread filling his stomach. 

“A week ago, Thomas came here. I sent him back home, but--”

“There are cameras in the hallway.” 

“Microphones too, I think.” Juliana croaks. “What if-- Joe, if they find out he was here and Smith is looking for a reason to have me executed--”

Joe’s breath leaves him in a _whoosh_ and he reaches for her, pulling her close. “You have to calm down. We need to think.” 

“You have to go, you have to get out of here--”

“He’s not back from Berlin yet. We have time. Hey--” He gets her attention back on him, meeting her eyes, “I told you. I’m not-- I’m not leaving you. Not again.” 

Joe doesn’t know where they’re going to go, or how they’re going to get out of this, but he knows one thing - Obergruppenführer John Smith is going to come home from saving the world to find out that one of the only things that matters to him is gone, and he’s going to be on the warpath.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @dreamingundone!


End file.
